


Walls Crumble

by Rrrowr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arguments, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-19
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 04:59:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rrrowr/pseuds/Rrrowr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel does like Sam, but that's exactly the problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walls Crumble

“You know what? I don’t _get you_ ,” says Sam with a hard fury. “You don’t like me. You think I’m an — an _abomination_. You probably think that I should be shut away somewhere so that I don’t cause you any more trouble.”

Castiel wants to cut Sam off and tell him that he’s wrong. He does like Sam, but that’s exactly the problem. Every frustrated, angry word that Sam spits outs of his mouth burns under Castiel’s skin, but it shouldn’t. It hurts, and Castiel can’t look at Sam’s face for fear that the pain should sharpen into something unbearable. He tells himself that what he is doing is right. Everything that’s being said now is a means to an end and once this moment has passed, Castiel will have nothing more to worry about between him and Sam.

“What I don’t get is why you’re still here — why _I’m_ still here,” Sam says. “By all rights I should be sick and tired of having you put me down all the time.”

Sam is pacing, talking aloud to himself mostly, and Castiel watches his feet walk in one direction then twist and cover the distance again. Sam’s voice is impossible to tune out. With an increasing breathlessness that means that Sam thinks he’s approaching some sort of understanding, he talks about their interactions or lack thereof and how he knows that Cas can hear his prayers and how they fight together almost as well as Sam and Dean do, that it’s only afterward that’s a problem and—

“Why can’t you look at me?”

Sam is on the far side of the room when he asks the question. When Sam strides toward him, his long legs cover the gap in almost no time at all and Castiel can feel every single step like an approaching horror. Castiel retreats and then his back bumps into the wall. Sam is on him at once with one big hand coming up to cradle under his jaw and forcing him to look up.

“Why haven’t you flown away?” Sam asks.

Sam’s face is twisted in his bewilderment. His hair is hanging into his face and his eyes betray every deep-seated curiosity that lays in his heart, every aspiration and longing and every dark moment of jealousy he’s secretly hoarded away. Castiel sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of them, completely unable to tear his eyes away, and it is too much for him to take right now.

Sam Winchester is beautiful. Castiel has always known this to be true, but now that he has acknowledged it, every truth he’s denied thus far follows after it. That Sam Winchester is kind. That Sam Winchester is strong. That his faith is true and his spirit, good. That Castiel saves Dean Winchester first, always, because he knows that Sam would insist on it. That Castiel does so because he loves — oh how he loves! — and loves and loves and cannot do anything but love. That the love is so great that it weighs upon him, that it drags him down almost as easily as it uplifts him, and that he could no more fight it than he could God Himself.

“Oh,” Castiel gasps, awed and unable to keep it out of his voice. He touches Sam’s cheek.

Sam leans into the press of his fingertips minutely. “Cas,” he says.

It is enough.

Blinking, Castiel jerks back from Sam and hits wall again.

Then, spreading his wings, he runs.


End file.
